Society's Dregs
Title: Society's Dregs
Author:I_llbedammned
Fandom: The Watchmen
Pairing/Characters: Rorschach
Rating: M
Word count: 500
Warnings: Violence
Challenge: #070 Barrel Of A Gun
Summary:Rorschach reminisces over the benefits of using his fists over using a gun.
Rorschach barely even registered the man as a threat until he was staring down the barrel of a gun at point blank range. "Gimme your money, you masked freak!" came the demand from his pimply, gaunt face. The masked hero lifted his gloved fist with purpose.
Rorschach never could understand what it was about modern society that made them gravitate towards guns. Whatever happened to the good old days when men solved all their problems with their fists, pitting their strength against another man's strength and letting whoever was stronger come out on top? But no, everybody wanted something easy in today's world. They wanted the power immediately and so they bought phallic extension and explosives to try and behave like they could ever have power in the same way.
They didn't want to spend the hours training to get what they wanted. He ran his gloved hand absent mindedly along the old scars on his knuckles, remembering the first time that he ever got into a fight. It wasn't much of a fight, just some other kid at school that started something that they couldn't finish. The teachers had pulled Rorschach off the other kid half-way horrified as blood gushed from the other kid's mouth and from his own. Looking back on it he wanted to spit on the kid, nothing but a mindless ruffian who tried to use force to get his way. People like him were the reason why society was in the dismal state that it was in.
Time went by, nothing changed in society. He learned from his mistakes, learned to duck when he saw the wind-up. He learned how to ignore pain when it came his way as he dodged the kids at school and his mother's and her scumbag boys' own blows. He learned the value of a good day's work when the work was paid with his own sweat and blood. As around him society devolved he built himself up from nothing, watching as muscle stacked its way on top of fragile bones. How many of these useless pieces of trash could say the same?
Every memory made his hits come harder. Funny thing about a gun is that they were absolutely useless in close range. He grabbed his would be robber's hand bent it hard ‘til the bones cracked. The man cried out, but that did not stop the blows. They rained down like hail, even as everybody on the street gave them a wide berth and stared like they had never seen a real fight before. With bone shattering force Rorschach lashed out against the evils of the world, purging it one blood spatter and bruise at a time from the man's face, hands, neck, and arms. He knew the man would not survive and good riddance to bad rubbish. These were lessons one could not learn from a gun, these were hard lessons that a man had to earn all on his own with his own flesh as payment.
Author:I_llbedammned
Fandom: The Watchmen
Pairing/Characters: Rorschach
Rating: M
Word count: 500
Warnings: Violence
Challenge: #070 Barrel Of A Gun
Summary:Rorschach reminisces over the benefits of using his fists over using a gun.
Rorschach barely even registered the man as a threat until he was staring down the barrel of a gun at point blank range. "Gimme your money, you masked freak!" came the demand from his pimply, gaunt face. The masked hero lifted his gloved fist with purpose.
Rorschach never could understand what it was about modern society that made them gravitate towards guns. Whatever happened to the good old days when men solved all their problems with their fists, pitting their strength against another man's strength and letting whoever was stronger come out on top? But no, everybody wanted something easy in today's world. They wanted the power immediately and so they bought phallic extension and explosives to try and behave like they could ever have power in the same way.
They didn't want to spend the hours training to get what they wanted. He ran his gloved hand absent mindedly along the old scars on his knuckles, remembering the first time that he ever got into a fight. It wasn't much of a fight, just some other kid at school that started something that they couldn't finish. The teachers had pulled Rorschach off the other kid half-way horrified as blood gushed from the other kid's mouth and from his own. Looking back on it he wanted to spit on the kid, nothing but a mindless ruffian who tried to use force to get his way. People like him were the reason why society was in the dismal state that it was in.
Time went by, nothing changed in society. He learned from his mistakes, learned to duck when he saw the wind-up. He learned how to ignore pain when it came his way as he dodged the kids at school and his mother's and her scumbag boys' own blows. He learned the value of a good day's work when the work was paid with his own sweat and blood. As around him society devolved he built himself up from nothing, watching as muscle stacked its way on top of fragile bones. How many of these useless pieces of trash could say the same?
Every memory made his hits come harder. Funny thing about a gun is that they were absolutely useless in close range. He grabbed his would be robber's hand bent it hard ‘til the bones cracked. The man cried out, but that did not stop the blows. They rained down like hail, even as everybody on the street gave them a wide berth and stared like they had never seen a real fight before. With bone shattering force Rorschach lashed out against the evils of the world, purging it one blood spatter and bruise at a time from the man's face, hands, neck, and arms. He knew the man would not survive and good riddance to bad rubbish. These were lessons one could not learn from a gun, these were hard lessons that a man had to earn all on his own with his own flesh as payment.